


The Greatest Thing

by SubtextEquals



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempted Sexual Assault, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:39:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2125548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubtextEquals/pseuds/SubtextEquals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agron is a penniless writer who comes to France seeking a place in the Bohemian Revolution. Nasir is a courtesan, working for Batiatus at the Ludus. When a case of mistaken identity occurs, the path of their lives cross and merge even as the Dominus and jealousy threaten to tear them apart.</p><p>Moulin Rouge rewritten for Agron/Nasir with more than a few changes along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return._

Agron’s brother had told him that once when they were drunk beyond reason and for a long time he’d figured Duro was full of shit. So he never thought he’d be typing that as the start to any novel, let alone his first.

Now what to type next…

_The Ludus. A nightclub. A dance hall and a bordello. Ruled over by Quintus Lentulus Batiatus. A kingdom of nighttime pleasure where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. The most beautiful of all these was the man I loved. Nasir. A courtesan. He sold his love to men. They called him the Sparkling Diamond. And he was the star of The Ludus._

_The man I loved is dead._

_I first came to Paris one year ago…_

 

Agron stood in the center of what looked more like a shitfest, waiting to read some of the shittiest lines he’d ever read. Meanwhile, this guy named Spartacus was dressed as a nun and singing.

This was not what he’d imagined when he’d left Germany to join the Bohemian Revolution in France. But in the end they’d offered to pay him for standing in. Right now he was regretting it because the writer of this production had called a stop to the whole thing and the others were arguing over how his words didn’t fit.

Agron rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake.” He cleared his throat, stepped into the center of the room, and sang just as the composer, Gannicus, was playing for demonstration. “The hills are alive with the sound of fucking.”

Everyone stopped and stared at him.

“The hills are alive--”

“With the sound of fucking.” The Gaul mused.

There was a long pause and then Gannicus grinned. “It’s brilliant!”

Suddenly, the previous writer was out of a job and Agron had landed himself one writing a musical.

“So to make it clear, you believe in freedom?” Spartacus asked Agron as he brought out a bottle of absinthe.

“There’s Spartacus,” the Gaul said. “Always talking about freedom. I like beauty more.”

“And without freedom you wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy beauty.” Spartacus countered.

“Agreed.” Agron found himself warming to Spartacus already.

“Nothing to say about love?” Gannicus interjected dryly.

Spartacus poured a glass of absinthe and drank from it directly.

Agron watched how everyone glanced from Spartacus back to him.

“I’m sure it’s really fucking good,” he said.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been in love,” the Gaul said.

“No.” Agron didn’t see a reason not to admit it but he did take the absinthe and poured himself a drink. He’d never tasted it before.

“Take him to The Ludus.” Gannicus grabbed the bottle of absinthe. “He’ll find love there.”

“You’re mistaking love for lust.” Spartacus finished his drink in one last gulp. “A common failing.”

“He needs to go there anyway,” the Gaul spoke. “We have to convince Batiatus to hire him officially.”

Agron had just taken a drink at that comment and choked. The Gaul slapped his back.

“I have an idea.” Spartacus had an unreadable smile on his face. “Nasir.”

 

Agron had left his suits behind in Germany. He didn’t want to know where Spartacus and his crew had gotten one for him, let alone one that fit so well.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” The Gaul had his arms folded over his chest. “Just get Nasir out of The Ludus and have him meet with Agron.”

“Batiatus would never let Nasir leave The Ludus. He’s their champion.”

“We’re all fucking champions.” The Gaul grumbled.

“How is a whore going to help us?” Agron adjusted his suit in a manner that was not nervous at all. In other words it was.

“Courtesan.” Spartacus corrected firmly. “I wouldn’t call him a whore if you want to avoid a black eye. He can punch.” He shot a look at Gannicus.

“He surprised me.” Gannicus insisted.

“And that’s what happens if you call him a whore.” Spartacus finished.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Agron tugged at his collar. “Fuck, it’s been ages since I wore one of these damn things.”

“Get used to it.” Crixus shoved him toward the door. “Now get out there and tell Nasir how the hills are alive with the sound of fucking.”

 

Agron admitted that he was sheltered growing up. Sure, his brother and he had got into more trouble than either of them would dare to admit to their father. But he had no idea that a brothel could be like this. Opulent and bright. Batiatus earned a lot from his prostitutes and, judging by the look of it, he spent it just as fast to attract even more not so hard won (on his part) earnings.

The Ludus was crowded, not just with other well dressed, rich men, but with the whores-- courtesans-- dancers-- whatever. There weren’t just women, wearing long flowing skirts, but men wearing hardly anything at all. Agron found it harder to focus on why he was here when he was in the middle of such a display of gyrating hips-- and dancing women that he was doing his best to avoid.

At least until one of them came his way. He gave her a brief smile as she reached up to grab his shoulders, took her elbows, and pushed her away.

“Not interested.”

“Oh.” Her gaze darted to one of the men Agron had been eyeing. “One of my friends then.”

“He’s here to see someone in particular.” Spartacus was the one to rescue Agron.

The woman nodded. “Nasir. He won’t disappoint you.” She winked at Agron before heading off to find another more promising “suitor.”

“I’m no longer sure about this fucking plan.” Agron muttered to Spartacus.

Apparently it wasn’t quiet enough that the Gaul didn’t hear because he was the one to answer. “Shut up and enjoy it.”

Agron couldn’t say he wasn’t following the Gaul’s instructions when they took a seat at a somewhat private table, above the crowd of customers dancing with Batiatus’s employees.

“After Nasir’s number, I’ve arranged a meeting with you two.” Spartacus told Agron. “ _Just_ you two.”

“Number?” Agron asked although his mind had latched onto the “just you two” part of that sentence.

“You’ll see.”

Sure enough, the lights dimmed and the crowd fell into a hushed silence as a stream of what looked like diamonds fell in the middle of them.

“There’s a reason they call him the Sparkling Diamond,” Gannicus said. “Personally, I wish they had a woman instead.”

Agron barely heard him. Instead he was captivated by the sight of a man being lowered over the men, seated on a swing. He was lithe, much smaller than one would expect, but he had the air of strength and yet delicacy at the same time. His long, black hair lay draped across his shoulders. He wore a glittering corset, complete with a garter, and barely anything covered his crotch at all.

“Nasir?” He breathed.

“Nasir.” Spartacus confirmed.

Agron swore vehemently in German. They were going to be alone? _Together?_

Then Nasir opened his mouth and his voice was clear with the trace of an accent far from France. “The french are glad to die for love. They delight in fighting duels. But I prefer a man who lives. And gives expensive…” At that moment Nasir scanned the crowd, then the tables, and his eyes seemed to connect with Agron’s. A slight smile curled his lips and he swept his arm out across the swarm of men. “Jewels.”

“Fuck the gods.” Agron gaped.

Gannicus laughed. “I don’t think it’s them you want to fuck.”

Agron had never in his life seen someone like Nasir. He could move. He enthralled the crowd with his lips, his voice, the curve of his ass. They even lifted him up and passed him among them as he continued to sing, unperturbed and not anxious at all that he might be dropped. Agron had long since stopped caring what the words Nasir sang were. In fact, he’d forgotten how to speak French.

What he didn’t realize was that a mix up that was going to shape his life was forming. Spartacus was trying to wave down Nasir when he bumped into the man, also known as the Dominus, seated at the table next to him. He waved his kerchief at him to pretend to clean up the wine spilled on his shirt, which Batiatus saw and directed Nasir to look at. Only by the time Nasir did, Spartacus was grabbing Agron’s kerchief to take it to the Dominus.

And that was how Nasir mistook Agron to be the Dominus, the man he was sent to _persuade_ to invest in their production. And that was why, several minutes later, he went to Agron’s table, smiling and holding out his hand for Agron to take.

“A handsome man like you deserves a dance, doesn’t he?”

Spartacus slapped Agron on the back and pushed him to his feet when all Agron could do was stare slack jawed. That knocked him back to his senses and he took Nasir’s hand, keenly aware of the fact that dancing was not his specialty. But Nasir didn’t seem to mind, even if the other patrons weren’t nearly as thrilled with this development as Nasir seemed to be.

Up close Nasir looked even more attractive with that enigmatic smile and the subtle makeup that added to his beauty, enhancing the color of his lips and accentuating his eyelashes, but still giving him a natural appearance.

“I understand we have an arrangement later tonight,” Nasir said.

“Yeah, I’m-- looking forward to it.” Fuck, it was hard to speak when Nasir was looking at him like he wanted nothing more to undress him. Especially when the feeling was mutual. “And showing you-- what I can do.”

“Oh.” That was a leer. “I’m sure we’ll both enjoy that.”

“The poetry?” Agron hoped to get this back on track instead of continuing the flirting which was making him equal parts uncomfortable and interested.

“The poetry?” Nasir echoed. For a moment Agron thought he saw a hint of confusion in Nasir’s eyes but it was quickly masked by intrigue and not even disguised lust. “Is that all I’m going to hear from your lips?”

Holy fuck, no one had come onto him this strong in years and they’d all been women.

Nasir leaned in close and Agron was just about to part his lips in preparation for a kiss when Nasir pulled back.

“I’ll see you then.” He was swallowed by the crowd although every now and then Agron picked out a gleaming flash of his corset between the bodies pressed together.

Agron made his way back to their private table. Spartacus, Crixus, and Gannicus were looking at him with interest.

“Well?” Spartacus asked.

“I think I have a job,” Agron said because there was no delicate way to put “he wants to fuck my brains out” to people he’d just met yesterday.

“I knew he’d like your poetry.” Spartacus gestured to the empty seat beside him.

Agron snorted as he sat. “Poetry. Yeah.”

Before any of the others could respond, their attention was called back to the floor. Nasir was back on the swing, being raised higher into the air above them, and singing the finale of the song that had been on his lips earlier.

“Diamonds… square cut or pear shaped these rocks don’t lose their shape. Diamonds are a boy’s best--” His voice cut off as the music trilled, preparing for the last note, but while the people below were shaking their hands in the air in anticipation, Nasir gasped. Instead of finishing the song, he lost his grip on the swing.

Agron was powerless to do anything more than watch as Nasir fell. Regardless, he started to rise from his seat but someone else was there to save Nasir, catching him in his arms.

Batiatus recovered quickly, catching everyone but Agron’s attention as Nasir was carried off into the back. Agron kept his eyes on the door he’d disappeared behind for some time, brow furrowing.

“He’s fine.” Spartacus assured him. “Must be part of the show. I wouldn’t put it past Batiatus to raise interest through drama.”

Agron wasn’t so sure.


	2. Chapter 2

Nasir still felt faint, even as he came back to himself and slowly opened his eyes. Chadara and Naevia hovered over him, their looks of concern countering some of the looks of jealousy and disdain sent his way by some of the others in the background.

“What happened?” Nasir asked. The last thing he remembered he was singing-- he hadn’t finished.

“Fainting spell,” Chadara said. “You’ll be all right.”

Nasir tried to sit up but his body felt heavy and instead of gracefully rising to his feet, he lurched forward. Naevia pushed him onto his back and laid a damp cloth over his forehead.

“I need to--” He wheezed. “Get out there. I wasn’t finished.”

“I’m sure you’ll attract many gentlemen looking like that.” Chadara squeezed his shoulder. “You need to rest. There’s still the Dominus to take care of.”

Nasir would have sighed if he weren’t still trying to catch his breath. The Dominus. Well, he looked really good and he didn’t seem like a terrible person. Nasir was going to enjoy this one. He hoped.

Naevia watched as Chadara left to urge the other men and women back to work. She turned back to Nasir. “It’s getting worse.”

“It’s nothing.” Nasir pulled the cloth away from his forehead and sat up. “That’s better. Can you help me get out of this?” He gestured to his corset. “I think the Dominus will want something more subdued.”

“How subdued?”

Nasir smiled. “Not very.”

 

Agron didn’t know why in God’s name they had brought him to some building in the shape of an elephant or why they had built it in the first place. He’d given up on trying to make sense of Batiatus’s taste. Even the inside of the room was over the top. Red-- the color of love or rather, he’d wager, lust-- was everywhere and his eyes kept straying to the bed.

Just the two of them.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Suitable for poetry?”

Agron turned suddenly at the sound of Nasir’s voice. He hadn’t heard the door open or close but there was the courtesan, dressed in a black corset and sheer material draping his body, of the same color but entirely see through. Christ, he had good legs.

“Shit.”

“I’m sorry.” Nasir smiled to show he was no such thing. “Is this not satisfactory?”

“No, it’s fine.” Fuuuuuck.

“Can I..." Nasir wandered to the small table filled with refreshments. “Offer you some champagne?”

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

Nasir glanced over at him. “Oh, I hope we spend a very long time together tonight.”

That was so unbelievably tempting right now but he had a job to do in order to _get_ a job. “Yeah but I think I should at least read you some poetry before anything else.”

Nasir, who had been in the process of pulling out a bottle of champagne from the ice, let it drop back down. “Oh.” He crossed the room to reach the bed and brushed aside some of the pillows as he draped himself across it. “I have been aching to be moved by your poetry.” He crooked his finger in a motion for Agron to come forward. “Why don’t you sit down?”

“I’d rather stand.”

Nasir pushed himself up. “With muscles like that I’m sure you could.”

Muscles? “No, I mean-- it can get long so--”

“Oh, I’m sure it is long--”

“That’s not what I--” Agron felt his tongue tying itself before he could get out any more words. He turned around. “Jesus fuck.” He muttered.

He heard Nasir approaching but couldn’t turn himself around in time before he felt the courtesan’s arms slide around his waist and body press against him. “There’s no need to be shy.” His hands crept towards Agron’s cock.

“Oh fuck!” Agron shoved himself away from Nasir before he could get even harder. Fucking Nasir and his fucking corset and his fucking coming onto him like a, well, whore.

“It’s a little bit funny.” He stammered, still turned away from Nasir.

“Funny?”

“This feeling inside. I’m not one of those who can easily hide.” He looked back. “Is that O.K.?”

Nasir blinked but then he stepped back and lounged across the bed once again. “It’s wonderful. Go on.”

“I don’t have much money but if I did I’d buy a fucking goat farm where we both could live.”

Evidently Nasir couldn’t help himself. “A goat farm?” He interrupted but he was smiling as he spoke.

“I’m trying to finish.”

“Mm.” Nasir pressed a finger to his lips. “Sorry.” He spread his legs just enough for Agron’s attention to drift from his poetry to the bulge of Nasir’s cock and oh fuck he was in trouble because he’d never wanted anyone like this before.

Agron turned back around again and closed his eyes.

Poetry. Poetry. Come on, he couldn’t fuck this up because he would rather be fucking.

“My gift--”

“Hm?”

Well, singing was what got him here and it was a musical he would be writing so why the fuck not.

He turned back to Nasir, whose dark eyes captured his own for a moment.

“My gift is my song.” Agron sang. “And this one’s for you…” As he continued to sing, Agron grew bolder and extended his hand. Nasir took it and Agron pulled him into his arms and spun him about the room, growing more confident the more starstruck Nasir became.

“I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words how wonderful life is now you’re in the world!” He finished.

Nasir continued to stare in awe. He was still in Agron’s arms. “I can’t believe it. I’m in love.”

The only reason Agron didn’t drop Nasir was because his arms, even his whole body froze.

“I’m in love with a young, handsome, talented dominus.”

That thawed him. “Dominus?” He laughed.

Nasir tried to press his forehead to Agron’s but came up a little short so he kissed his cheek instead. “Not that the title’s important.”

“I’m not a dominus.” He didn’t know where this attempt at flattery had come from but he found being called by a title that wasn’t his vaguely insulting.

“Not a dominus?”

“I’m a writer.”

The look of awestruck devotion vanished from Nasir’s face as he pushed Agron back and stepped out of his arms. “A writer?”

What the hell? “The poetry didn’t fucking give it away? Spartacus--”

Nasir’s hand flew to his mouth. “Oh shit.” He pulled his hand away as he circled Agron. “You’re not another of Spartacus’s oh so talented, charmingly bohemian, incredibly ripped proteges?”

Agron looked down at his own chest and stomach. “You might say that.”

Nasir let out a stream of curses that impressed even Agron. His face transformed into a look of fury that was just as frightening as it was adorable. “I’m going to beat him to death with my God damn fists!”

This wasn’t helping the fact that Agron was still majorly turned on right now.

“But what about the Dominus?” Nasir went to the door, opened it, closed it, and nearly yelled. “The Dominus!” He whirled back to Agron. “Hide! Out the back!”

Before Agron could follow Nasir’s order, the door started to open and he had to duck behind the small table, hoping it could hide his bulky frame.

Batiatus strode into the room. “What the fuck are you doing? Sitting on the bed fingering yourself while the Dominus is waiting to slip his cock inside you?”

Agron burned at the way Batiatus was speaking to Nasir. He looked around the table to see that the courtesan’s head was slightly bowed in deference.

“I’m sorry. A misunderstanding. I thought he would arrive later.”

“Your misunderstanding has had me spinning lies out my ass! Prepare yourself because you’re going to have to fuck him all night to get him to invest in us now.” Batiatus turned back.

Nasir raised his head, pressed his lips more firmly together, and then glanced at Agron. Once he caught Agron looking at him, he jerked his head. Agron got the message and ducked his head back behind the table.

He couldn’t see what was going on, stuck to the view out the back of the room, missing a wall in favor of a breathtaking view across the city. If he could just make it there in time… but then he’d have to leave Nasir to a night of misery.

“Ah, my good Dominus.” Batiatus’s voice had switched to salesman mode, full of false cheer. “I must apologize for the wait. Nasir here was trembling in anticipation of your visit.”

“A man of your reputation,” Nasir spoke demurely, “is it any wonder I find myself overwhelmed by the thought of the sight of you?”

Agron had to hand it to Nasir, he could weave words to rival any worthwhile writer. And a few short moments ago he’d been using that skill on Agron. He felt like an idiot for believing he was being genuine.

“I shall leave you two,” Batiatus spoke. “So that you may-- better acquaint yourselves.”

Agron heard the door close and he risked a glance around the table in time to get a view of Nasir’s legs. But once he raised his eyes he saw the Dominus, an older, particularly ugly looking man, taking Nasir’s hand and kissing it.

“Are you as skilled as they say?”

“Would you care to test me?” Nasir asked.

The Dominus let go of Nasir’s hand and turned to the table, which Agron quickly hid behind again. If the Dominus got closer and turned a certain way, he would be sure to see him. Agron quickly scrambled to try and get opposite of him again.

“Perhaps a glass of champagne?” The Dominus asked.

“Wait!” Nasir cried.

Agron held his breath.

“Would you rather have a show?” Nasir asked, significantly calmer than he’d been a moment ago and falling back into his sultry lilt.

“Of what kind?”

Agron couldn’t hear what was going on but the Dominus seemed distracted and after a while temptation overcame him. He peeked over the table and saw Nasir dancing, pulling off the fabric that covered his body and letting it fall to the floor. It was meant to mesmerize the Dominus. It had the same effect on Agron.

“After that,” the Dominus began. “Surely you must need some--”

Nasir’s eyes shot back to Agron as the Dominus turned to grab the champagne.

“It’s a little bit funny,” he said, probably blurting out the first thing that had sprung to mind, which for some reason happened to be Agron’s poetry. Only he was evidently having trouble recalling it.

“This feeling.” Agron mouthed and Nasir repeated. “Inside.”

Nasir was able to pick it up from there and the words had the desired effect, catching the Dominus’s attention again.

“I’m not one of those who can easily hide.”

With the Dominus distracted, Agron inched back toward the door. He reached it then hesitated.

“I don’t have much money but if I did I’d buy a big house where we both could live.”

Big house? The words were goat farm, that poetry mangling--

Agron opened the door, saw what must have been the Dominus’s bodyguard, and promptly closed it.

The Dominus turned at the sound but Nasir seized his shoulder, touched his cheek, and drew him back to face him.

“But I have no money, my dear Dominus.” He continued, giving up the recitation of the poem. “I have only the warmth of my thighs.” And then he pulled him to the bed, falling back onto it first so that the Dominus would never have to turn and see Agron.

With the Dominus distracted, Nasir gestured violently to the back, where Agron could escape.

“Get out before he kills you.” He mouthed before pushing the Dominus back and pressing those same lips to the revolting man’s.

Agron started to follow Nasir’s instructions when he paused in the middle of the room and turned to face Nasir, defiance etched in his expression. He was not going to move.

Nasir opened his eyes to check to see if Agron was there and, when he saw him, glared. He waved his hand again to the back but this time Agron shook his head.

Nasir drew his lips away from the Dominus’s. “But such a treasure would be cheapened in the giving of it too soon,” he said.

Agron nodded and hid behind one of the curtains near the back.

“Wait--” the Dominus said.

“I fear you would cast me aside if I took you within me now.”

Agron heard them stumbling back.

“We must wait until opening night. Good night.”

The door shut and Agron finally stepped out from behind the curtain. Nasir was rounding on him, anger filling his eyes.

“He would have killed you if he found you here! And me--” He had to pause. He was breathing too hard, and then he stumbled.

“Nasir?” Agron stepped forward in time to catch Nasir as he passed out. “Nasir?” He shook him but the courtesan didn’t respond. “Fuck.” He glanced at the bed. “Alright, I’ll just…” He dragged Nasir over to the bed and stretched him out. He hovered over him and laid a hand over his heart to check that it was beating. Then he went to untie his corset.

And at that moment the door opened.

“I forgot my hat--” The Dominus’s eyes zeroed in on Agron lying on top of Nasir, with his hands gone to his back. “What is this?”

Too late, Nasir finally woke. His eyes went from the Dominus to Agron and back again. “Dominus…” He feebly pushed Agron away.

“You attempt to toy with me and then fuck someone behind my back?”

“No.” Nasir managed to get onto his feet and grabbed Agron’s hand. He tugged him forward. “This is the writer of our production. You inspired me so and he was near so I--”

“Called him to lie with him?” The Dominus sneered.

“Called him here to rehearse. You made a very untimely interruption but I assure you the scene is--” Nasir smiled. “Unspeakably erotic.”

“And if you’re rehearsing where is everyone else?”

Nasir glanced at Agron. “I didn’t have time to--”

“How _is_ the rehearsal?” Spartacus asked as he waltzed in through the back, Gannicus and Crixus right behind him.

Agron turned and glared at them. Their arrival might have saved them but it meant they’d been fucking spying on them the whole time.

“And Batiatus? Where is he?”

Nasir opened his mouth and let it hang there for a moment as he thought. “We couldn’t--”

At that moment Batiatus burst into the room. “What is this--”

Fucking hell, was _everyone_ spying on them?

“Batiatus,” Nasir began. “I was just explaining to the Dominus about how he inspired me to hold this emergency rehearsal.”

Batiatus’s brow twisted. “What?”

“And now that he is here he can fill us with more ideas.” Nasir looked back to the Dominus. “You have the fortune of good timing.”

What followed was practically a song and dance number trying to get the Dominus convinced that, one, Agron and Nasir hadn’t been fucking, and two, the production was something he wanted to sink his money into.

The problem with the latter was, the idea the previous writer came up with was shit. Nuns singing in Switzerland while simultaneously doing erotic dances? No. So Agron randomly thought of Rome and its decadence and Gannicus threw in a magic singing sitar despite the fact that Agron was pretty sure Rome didn’t have sitars.

“And what’s the story?” The Dominus asked.

“The story?” Batiatus repeatedly dumbly. “Well, it’s-- Spartacus?”

“It’s about…” Spartacus looked at Agron.

“Love.” Agron blurted. “Overcoming all the shit life throws at it. You see there’s a--” His eyes landed on Nasir. “Courtesan. The most beautiful in all the world. But his home is invaded by an evil, mad emperor. And to save his people, he must seduce the emperor but he mistakes him for a penniless--” He thought back to the magical sitar comment. “Sitar player and he falls in love with him.” He looked back at Nasir. “Not that he was trying to trick him but he was dressed as an emperor for a musical.”

Nasir nodded at the explanation delivered by way of a story.

And somehow, miraculously, the Dominus bought into it. Literally.


	3. Chapter 3

Everyone was celebrating the investment in the musical and how it would transform The Ludus. But it wasn’t the distractions of the loud cheers and grunts of sex that stopped Agron from writing. Instead, his gaze kept drifting to the elephant right across from his dirty apartment, where he and Nasir had been.

It wasn’t abandoned for the night either. He could see a lone figure resting atop it, no longer in a corset by the look of it, which was just as well in the night air. Nasir sat and looked out over the city.

“Fuck the gods.” Agron slipped away from his room and the party that raged on in the building.

 

Nasir reached out and let his fingers pass over the rails. Blocking him in, keeping him from falling. It was one more cage like the one he was in, limiting but providing security. Keeping him alive. It wouldn’t last forever, he told himself.

Or maybe he’d only exchange one prison for another.

He heard someone ascending the stairs and tensed instinctively but the person who came into view was not Batiatus or the Dominus but Agron. Nasir felt the tension leave his muscles but his wariness didn’t go entirely. He didn’t know why Agron was here.

“I saw you here,” Agron said. “You seemed lonely.”

“I’m not.” Nasir lied.

“Oh.” Agron sat down next to him regardless of Nasir’s words and lack of invitation.

Nasir looked at him. Really? Well, he’d met ruder. He’d _slept with_ ruder.

“So,” Agron said. “Everything earlier was an act.”

Nasir shook his head, holding back a laugh. It never stopped surprising him how many so easily forgot that he was paid to do this. But then, Agron had never paid. “You’re not the first man to think they won my heart.”

“No, I didn’t think that,” Agron said quickly. “I just thought you really wanted to sleep with me.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad.”

Agron, who had been gazing out over the city, turned to look at Nasir.

“That wasn’t an offer.” Nasir clarified.

“Oh-- of course it wasn’t.” Agron looked back out again.

Nasir didn’t take his eyes off him. Agron was really put out over this. More than someone who just wanted to sleep with him would be. “You’re not the first man to give their heart to me either. It passes quick--”

Agron snorted. “I’m not in love with you.”

That… actually seemed sincere. Alright, Nasir had to admit he was confused. “Then why are you here?”

“I hoped for some answers.”

Thinking back to before, Naisr asked another question. “Why did you stop me?”

“From sleeping with him?” Agron asked, turning his gaze back on Nasir again.

Nasir nodded. “You could have left.”

“Because you didn’t want to,” Agron simply said.

All Nasir could do was stare at him for a moment. “And how could you tell that?”

Agron shrugged. “Because I could. I mean, who _would_ want to sleep with him? He’s a creepy old man.”

Nasir laughed with him. “I’ve had creepier and older.”

The smile fell from Agron’s face. “Why?”

“Why…” Nasir repeated slowly.

“Why be a courtesan?”

Nasir tilted his head to the side. “You really haven’t been a penniless writer for very long, have you? You haven’t seen this side of life.” Nasir paused for a moment. “I chose to be a courtesan because otherwise I would have been out on the streets and by now I’d have been either beaten to death or died from starvation.”

“You didn’t have anyone else?”

Nasir felt his muscles tighten again. Memories, even years later, still hurt. He deadened his feelings in response, detaching and regarding them as happening to another boy in another life. “I did once,” he said. “A family. We came here from Syria. My parents died. My brother took care of me for a time-- but he disappeared one night.” Nasir didn’t know which story he preferred: that his brother was murdered… or he’d grown tired of supporting a child and had left him.

He gave Agron a tight smile. “I was lucky to make it long enough to come here-- and lucky that Batiatus took me in.”

“It doesn’t seem like luck to me.” Agron held his gaze.

Nasir shrugged. “You have a different perspective.” He shifted his eyes away from Agron.

“I’m sorry about your parents-- and your brother,” Agron said. “I left mine behind to come here.”

“We all do stupid things.”

“Are you calling me stupid?” Agron bristled.

“No,” Nasir said. “Just that that was stupid. Why would you come here?”

“Ideals, adventure… love.”

Nasir laughed at that, especially the last one. “All things that will get you killed.”

Agron straightened. “Alright, I can see how ideals can get you killed and adventure, obviously. But love?”

“I’m a courtesan,” Nasir said dryly. “Do you really think I can afford to fall in love? Do you think anyone could truly fall in love with me, knowing what I do?”

There was silence for a moment before Agron broke it. “Yes, I do.”

“You’re a fool.”

“You’re bitter.” Agron countered. “But I don’t blame you. So I’ll forget you said that.”

They fell into silence again.

“My brother told me once,” Agron started. “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”

Nasir considered it. It sounded like bullshit to him but what he would give to find out. “Is it?” He asked a little more somberly than intended.

“I’ll let you know when I find out. I’ve never been in love.”

“Then you’re in the wrong place.” Nasir pushed himself up and onto his feet. “You’re surrounded by whores,” he said bitterly. He stood straighter, letting himself fall back into a neutral expression. “I hope you have the answers you were looking for. Goodnight.”

Agron didn’t stop him from leaving but Nasir felt his eyes follow him as he descended the stairs.

 

Nasir was the lead actress in the musical Spectacular, Spectacular. Agron was the writer. What this meant was that they spent a lot of time together, usually in the company of others. But sometimes Nasir was in Agron’s room (Agron wasn’t allowed inside Nasir’s private rooms and Batiatus had given permission). And Agron found it increasingly hard to focus on working.

Nasir wasn’t like the seductive man who’d kept trying to get him in bed that first night. Once the courtesan act was dropped he was quieter but not afraid to speak his mind. He was a contradiction-- harsh and gentle. Matter of fact but then eloquent in the next breath. And when Agron came up with a chorus that consisted of “fuck the gods” Nasir laughed and told him he had to put it in.

When one of Agron’s chairs broke and he didn’t have the money to replace it, they ended up sitting on his bed. Nasir was looking over the script, his lips forming the words to his lines as he went over them.

“Nasir?” Agron asked as he glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes.

“Hm?” Nasir didn’t look up.

“The Dominus-- have you…?” He let his question trail off.

“He’s been out of the city. Business. I think he’s coming back next week.” Nasir finally looked up. “So no, we haven’t.”

“Oh,” Agron said. He stared down at his own copy of the script and pretended to make a note.

“...Why?”

“Nothing.” The response came quickly.

Nasir dropped his script to the bed. “You’re jealous.”

Agron took a breath. “Yes.”

“Do you remember what I told you that night on the elephant?”

Agron hadn’t realized how absurd that situation was until Nasir said it but he still answered. “You can’t afford to fall in love.”

“That’s right.” Nasir picked up his script again.

“But…” Agron began slowly, finally lifting his eyes to look at Nasir. “If you could.”

“I can’t,” Nasir said shortly.

“You’re a coward.”

Nasir threw the script at Agron. “And you’re a spoiled boy from Germany who ran away, found himself in the underworld, and you still don’t understand it.” Nasir got up.

Agron stood. “Nasir, wait. I didn’t mean--”

Nasir’s glare silenced him and neither of them said anything as he left.

“Ah, fuck!” Agron kicked the bedpost, which promptly collapsed. He rubbed his face. “...Shit.”

 

He’d overreacted. Nasir knew he’d overreacted. Agron didn’t deserve to hear that and normally Nasir didn’t lose it like that. But for whatever reason, he’d snapped.

He’d been called a whore before. But a coward?

Nasir glanced out the window of his room and started to instinctively slip out of his clothes when he saw the sun was setting. Then he realized he wouldn’t be working tonight as he hadn’t any night for the past week. The Dominus wanted exclusive rights to his body and had signed a contract, with The Ludus as collateral should it be broken.

It was a nice, if odd, break. He didn’t much care for what it meant after. But he could endure this. The Dominus would offer him more protection, more security than Batiatus ever could. More wealth and the freedom to do what he wanted-- as long as he slept with him.

Nasir pushed his hand through his hair.

Maybe he was a coward. Too scared to go back to the streets, to the life that Agron willingly threw himself into, and willing to give too much of himself to prevent that.

Too scared to admit that he loved…

Nasir opened his dresser and stared down at his corsets. He picked one up, let his fingers run over the fabric, and began to remove his coat… then he threw the corset back down.

No, if he was going to do this, it wasn’t going to be as a courtesan.

 

Agron cursed as he tried to right his bedpost and connect it back to the frame. This was hopeless. He was totally fucked tonight. In the end, he hauled the mattress onto the floor because he clearly wasn’t going to be able to sleep in the bed without rolling off it.

He started when he heard Nasir’s voice.

“What happened?” The courtesan asked quietly. He kept his eyes on Agron.

Agron felt a surge of relief at Nasir’s presence but at the same time a wave of anxiety rippled over him. “I kicked the bed. Fucking thing broke.”

Agron adjusted the mattress before standing and realized too late that Nasir would have to step on it if he wanted to come inside. He really wished he had a bigger apartment so it could be in a better position than that.

He sighed and waved Nasir in. “Come on. I’m going to have to step on it eventually.”

Nasir stepped onto the mattress and quickly made his way off it.

“I know I was an ass to you,” Agron said once Nasir was in front of him.

Nasir shook his head. “No, you were right about me. But I don’t want to be like that anymore. I don’t want to be a coward.” He looked into Agron’s eyes.

And then he unbuttoned his shirt.

“Nasir--”

Nasir kept working each button open. “Could you still be with me, knowing what I do?”

Agron felt a flare of jealousy-- more than a flare-- at the thought of anyone else laying their hands on Nasir. “You’re not going to sleep with him.”

Nasir’s fingers froze. “Agron--”

“Between the two of us, you don’t think we can be creative enough to avoid it?”

Nasir started to shake his head but Agron moved forward, took his face in his hands, and kissed him.

“I love you.” Agron told him.

“I love you too.” Nasir whispered.

“Am I worth the risk?”

“Yes,” Nasir said and let himself sink to the bed.

Agron followed. He’d never been in love before.

Now he craved it more than freedom.


	4. Chapter 4

Agron was never more grateful that he had fixed his bed than when he was curled up with Nasir on it. He was still breathing hard, feeling the sweat slide down Nasir’s body as his hand did the same, tasting it on his neck when he kissed him.

Nasir grabbed Agron’s arm and wrapped it tighter around him. “This is your idea of how I should learn my lines?”

“It’s a brilliant fucking idea, isn’t it?” Agron kissed his neck again.

“Should I start reciting them when you’re inside me?”

Agron turned Nasir onto his back and moved over him. “You’d better not be thinking about a fucking musical when we’re having sex.”

Their lips were just about to meet when they heard Spartacus outside the door.

“Five o’clock. You told me to work on the script with you. Tell me it’s safe to come in.”

“Fuck.” Agron swore but didn’t move. “It’s five already?”

“I take it that’s a no,” Spartacus said.

Nasir raised his voice. “Give us five minutes.” He then spoke more quietly to Agron. “You can’t have me in bed all day.” He kissed him just before slipping out from under Agron’s arms and grabbing his discarded clothes.

Agron watched as piece by piece, Nasir’s flesh receded from view. “God, has there ever been a man like you?”

Nasir threw Agron’s clothes at him. “I know what you’re trying to do. No making love now.”

“I’m not trying to do that.” Agron ignored the clothes and pushed off the bed. “I’m telling you how much I fucking love--”

Spartacus called again. “Tell me you’re not going for another round.”

“You.” Agron finished.

Nasir kissed him in response then gave him a light shove back toward the bed. But before Agron could get the wrong idea he clarified his meaning. “Work now, sex later.”

Once Spartacus was in the room, Agron and Nasir were still on the bed, and Agron had his hands on Nasir, just in a more innocent way. An arm around his waist, hand resting at his hip while Nasir’s fingers drifted along Agron’s thigh until he caught himself.

Sometimes Agron caught Spartacus looking at them wistfully. It wasn’t the first time he’d done this and at first Agron wondered if it was jealousy of one of them before concluding it was something else altogether but he never bothered to ask.

So far Agron, with some input and inspiration from his lover and his friend, had come up with the twist in the story.

“The emperor discovers the courtesan and sitar player’s love and he proceeds to fuck them over, demanding that the courtesan leave him and make the sitar player believe he doesn’t love him. The sitar player, heartbroken, throws money at the courtesan’s feet to pay him since he thinks the courtesan never loved him and leaves.”

“And then what happens?”

Agron turned to Nasir and nudged his nose. “You don’t really think the courtesan would break the sitar player’s heart into fucking pieces and let it stay that way?”

“Never.” Nasir turned his head.

Spartacus cleared his throat.

Caught, both Agron and Nasir laughed and pulled away from each other.

“I take it this is where I say my line?” Spartacus asked. “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return?”

“Yes. The lovers come to their senses and…” Agron grabbed Nasir and pulled him onto his lap. “Embrace each other.”

Spartacus shook his head. “Trying to work with you two in the room is impossible.”

“Maybe we should help Spartacus find a courtesan of his own.” Nasir suggested.

“Thank you, but that’s not necessary.” Spartacus stood and started collecting some of the copies of the revised script to hand them to the performers later.

“Why the fuck not? You see me with Nasir. It’s incredible.”

“I had that once. With my wife.”

Had.

Nasir glanced at Agron as the smiles fell from both their faces.

“What happened to her?” Agron asked.

Spartacus paused. His back was to them. “She died.”

Agron didn’t realize his hold on Nasir had tightened until Nasir had taken his hands, pulled them away, and laced their fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” Nasir said as he shifted off of Agron’s lap.

“No apologies needed.” Spartacus turned to them. “Should I leave you two alone?”

Agron didn’t really see a point in that anymore. It was difficult to want to drill Nasir into the bed when he was picturing himself in Spartacus’s place, having to live with the fact that Nasir was gone.

But he was here.

“I think you should.” Nasir answered for them.

Spartacus nodded to them. “Well then, have fun. Until tomorrow.”

Agron didn’t say anything until after he’d left. “He could have stayed.”

“He didn’t want to.” Nasir answered. “That explains a lot about him. I almost wish I didn’t know.” He paused for a moment. “I wonder if he’d rather not have known her at all.”

“If it were you, would you have rather not known me?” Agron wound his arm around Nasir.

Nasir smiled at him. “I didn’t live before you.”

Agron pulled him close so they could kiss-- just kiss-- and not move away until the sun had long since set.

 

Agron hated seeing Nasir with the Dominus. He knew nothing was happening-- fuck, usually whenever Nasir had to be with him, he found an excuse to bring Agron along so they could work and stare at each other while the Dominus was clueless. But then there were times when he and the Dominus had to sit next to each other and watch while the theater was constructed or the dancers were practicing. It made Agron want to haul the Dominus off and bash his face against the wall.

He recognized this wasn’t a good idea. The Dominus’s bodyguard/manservant, Ashur, would take issue. But Agron was sure he could take care of him. It was more The Ludus and their ties to it that concerned him. It was because of this that he simply gritted his teeth when he saw Nasir next to the Dominus as they watched one of the rehearsals.

He cleared his throat as he approached and knelt by Nasir. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said though he wasn’t at all. “But I’ve been having trouble with this new scene. You know, the-- will the lovers be fucking at the sitar player’s humble abode scene. Do you think we could work on it? Tonight.”

Nasir opened his mouth to speak but the Dominus interrupted him.

“My dear, I’ve arranged a magnificent supper for you tonight.”

Fuck his supper. “It is an important scene…” Agron did his best not to turn and glare that that fuck.

“A very important scene.” Nasir looked at the dominus and turned his smile on him. “Surely another time, when we may better--” He draped his hand over the Dominus’s arm and Agron wanted to scream. “Know each other.”

It was an act. It was necessary.

“But--”

Nasir turned back to Agron. “We will have to work on it until we are both satisfied.” His smile faded when he saw the look on Agron’s face. “Excuse me,” he said to the Dominus. “We must make arrangements.”

Nasir stood from his seat and grabbed Agron’s arm as they walked upstairs and behind one of the curtains.

“You know I have to do this. If he suspects--”

“I don’t fucking like it!” Agron snapped, doing his best to keep his voice low.

“Neither do I.” Nasir glanced behind them but it seemed that everyone was preoccupied. He reached up and stroked Agron’s cheek before kissing him. “You have my heart, Agron.” And then he gave him a longer kiss and it took everything Agron had not to pin Nasir against the wall and make out with him there.

“You’ll come?” He asked when they parted.

“Yes, many times over.” Nasir pressed their lips together again. It was clear he was biting back a laugh from the look he sent Agron just before leaving.

Grinning, Agron went the other way.

 

It was only when Agron left that Nasir finally let himself laugh, a sound that cut itself short when he saw Batiatus storming toward him.

“Do you take me for a fool?” He demanded. He seized Nasir’s arm and twisted. “You’ve enjoyed spreading your legs so much you do it for free now, with no coin to purchase you and pay the expenses for the extravagances I’ve lavished you with?”

“Batiatus--” Nasir knew it was best not to struggle against him so he didn’t resist even as his flesh stung from being twisted about. “What are you--”

“I saw you kissing that _fucking_ writer! How long have you been letting him slip cock in ass?”

Nasir could not deny what Batiatus had seen with his own eyes so he had to weave another lie, one more painful. “He means nothing to me,” he said. “A curiosity.”

“A curiosity that could bring The Ludus to the fucking ground and every miserable whore in it-- including you-- to the streets and certain death!” Batiatus hissed. He released Nasir’s arm. “This will not happen again. Whatever you have with this boy, it is over now. You are a courtesan and you are to go to the Dominus at eight, wine him, dine him, fuck him until he cannot breathe, and forget all about this fucking curiosity or see yourself with a knife in place of cock up ass.”

Nasir’s gaze remained fixed on the floor as Batiatus walked away, only turning to look over his shoulder once the man was out of sight. Agron was gone. He wouldn’t see him tonight.

He wouldn’t see him any other night.

Alone, Nasir let himself fall back against the wall. He closed his eyes and prayed that Agron would forgive him for what he had to do.

 

Nasir had just finished getting into his corset, applying a dash of makeup, and steeling himself for the night. He had just left his room when he felt the now familiar pain in his chest and the dizziness that accompanied a lack of air. He leaned against the door and tried to breathe.

And then his vision spun out of control until it went entirely black.

 

People were speaking. But he couldn’t hear it. He didn’t even know it was Chadara, Batiatus, and a stranger.

“Monsieur Batiatus,” the doctor spoke, unintelligible to Nasir’s ears. “Nasir is dying. He has consumption.”

“Consumption?” Chadara gasped before Batiatus waved his hand to silence her.

“Can nothing be done?”

“There is no cure. Perhaps, if he were to live in the country, he may yet live for years longer but-- there is no way to be sure.”

Batiatus nodded. “That will be all, thank you. Chadara see him paid and that no word of this reaches anyone, especially not the Dominus and not Nasir.” Batiatus looked at the courtesan. “He must not know.”

When at last Nasir opened his eyes, he was alone with Naevia.

“Pretend you are asleep until you’ve fully recovered.” She told him. “Batiatus nearly lost the Dominus’s investment. It is not your fault you were ill but he is still not pleased.”

“Thank you for warning me.” When he took another breath it hurt his chest. “Naevia, can you-- can you send a message for me?”

Naevia shook her head. “I have to be by your side.”

“Please--”

“You know what it would mean if they find me gone.”

Nasir sighed. “I know.” He would have to talk to Agron later.

And tell him it was over.


	5. Chapter 5

The noise of Agron’s constant typing was the only sound that carried through the small room. He didn’t know how long he’d been working. Ater Nasir hadn’t come last night, he hadn’t been able to sleep. Whenever he tried he saw images that made him want to slam his typewriter against the wall.

There was a faint knock on the door before it creaked open. Agron knew who it was without even looking up.

“Agron?” Nasir spoke quietly.

“Mm.” Agron’s fingers froze over the keys. “Were you with the Dominus?” He didn’t look up from the page. He’d stopped in the middle of a word.

“I was sick.”

Sick, Agron repeated the word to himself silently and skeptically. But when he looked up, Nasir’s pale, drawn appearance seemed to confirm it.

“Nasir…” He stood and walked over to his lover, reaching out to touch his arm but Nasir shied away from him. “Sit down, you look--”

“Agron, we have to talk.” But he didn’t resist as Agron pulled him inside and closed the door behind him.

“Then do it sitting down.” Agron pushed Nasir back onto the bed.

He stood before Nasir, who took his hands, stared at them, and didn’t lift his gaze.

“Batiatus saw us last night.”

Agron swore. “That shit. What did he do?”

“He told me that we have to stop.” Nasir’s voice was quiet and he still kept his eyes lowered.

Agron squeezed his hands harder than he meant. “And you’re going to listen to him?!”

“What choice do I have?” Nasir looked up at Agron and, while he was clearly trying to deaden his eyes, there was a trace of desperation and even more sadness in them. “I have to sleep with the Dominus on opening night. Nothing we do can change that.” Nasir let go of Agron’s hands so he could circle his wrists and push them to Agron’s sides. “The jealousy will drive you mad.”

Agron couldn’t speak. All he could think of was the truth in Nasir’s words. They wouldn’t be able to escape this. The Dominus would have his hands on Nasir. Be inside him.

Nasir brought one of Agron’s hands to his lips. “I’ll always love you, Agron.” He stood and started for the door.

Agron snapped back into reality and grabbed Nasir’s shoulders to hold him in place. “No,” he said firmly, drawing Nasir back so they were facing each other. “No, you’re not leaving me.”

“Agron--”

“It doesn’t matter if you have to sleep with him. I still love you. That’s never going to change! That will never fucking change--”

Nasir shook his head. “Agron.”

“This will be the hardest thing we ever do but it will be worth it.” Agron took Nasir’s face in his hands and kissed his forehead. “I’ll write a song for us, put it in the musical, and whenever we hear it--”

Nasir grabbed Agron’s elbows and tried to pull him away. “Life isn’t like a musical, Agron.”

Agron stood his ground. “I love you.” He pressed his forehead to Nasir’s.

Nasir sighed and closed his eyes.

Agron spoke. “Come what may. I will be forever by your side until my dying day.”

Agron measured the passing of time by Nasir’s shaking breaths until he calmed.

“You missed the word ‘fuck’ in there.” Nasir whispered.

“Who fucking cares?” And when Agron leaned in to kiss him, Nasir didn’t draw back.

 

Agron and Nasir managed to hide their affair from the Dominus and Batiatus but as for the rest of The Ludus’s employees, it had not escaped their notice. Agron was oblivious at first but then he noticed more and more the glances that came his way. No one had said anything though, so he trusted that he and Nasir were safe. Nasir was more skeptical. He was right to be.

It was the final rehearsal. Opening night was tomorrow and all their plans had come together perfectly. Crixus was… well, he wasn’t that bad in the lead role and Spartacus remembered his lines. Even Batiatus was doing a good job as the evil emperor. Agron’s eyes, however, were on Nasir. The corset was completely out of place for Rome but he wasn’t going to deny that it looked good on him. He wanted to rip it off. With his teeth.

He was so distracted that he didn’t see one of the prostitutes turned dancers approach the Dominus.

“This ending’s silly. Why would the courtesan choose the penniless writer?” She glanced at Agron. “Oops. I mean, sitar player.”

As she walked off, the Dominus turned his eyes on Nasir, regarding him in a new light as the last song was sung.

“Come what may. I will be forever by your side until my dying day!” The chorus, Nasir, and Crixus finished.

All eyes turned to see the Dominus’s reaction.

“...I don’t like this ending,” the Dominus said with a tight, false smile.

Everyone else’s smiles fell from their faces.

“Don’t like the ending, dear Dominus?” Batiatus asked.

The Dominus rose to his feet. “Why should the courtesan choose the penniless sitar player over the emperor, who is offering a lifetime of security? That’s real love.”

Agron grit his teeth. Real love. As if the Dominus valued anything but Nasir’s body.

The Dominus continued. “Once the sitar player has satisfied his lust, he will leave the courtesan with nothing. I suggest that in the end the courtesan choose the emperor.”

“Sorry.” Spartacus’s voice cut through the resulting silence though not Agron’s building rage. “But that does not uphold the bohemian ideals of truth, beauty, freedom, and lo--”

“I don’t care about your ridiculous dogma!” The Dominus spat. “Why shouldn’t the courtesan choose the emperor?”

“Because he doesn’t love you!” Agron shouted.

He realized what he’d said only after he felt everyone’s gaze on him, including the Dominus’s stunned, enraged eyes.

“...Him.” Agron corrected himself far too late. “He doesn’t love him.”

The Dominus looked at Nasir, who appeared to be expressionless but Agron recognized the tension running as an undercurrent through his body.

“Oh, I see,” the Dominus said quietly before raising his voice. “Monsieur Batiatus, this ending will be rewritten with the courtesan choosing the emperor and without the lovers’ secret song. It will be rehearsed in the morning, ready for the opening tomorrow night.”

Batiatus smiled. “My dear Dominus, that will be quite impossible--”

“Batiatus.” Nasir interrupted him as he stepped down from the stage. “The poor Dominus is being treated appallingly.”

Agron felt something sink into his stomach as he saw Nasir approach the Dominus with the same look that he’d been given the night he and Nasir first met. And then Nasir glanced at him and the look was dismissive.

It was an act. It was all an act.

“These silly writers let their imaginations run away with them.” Nasir reached the Dominus, stepped behind him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Now why don’t you and I have a little supper. And after… we can discuss how we would…” Nasir slipped back into the Dominus’s sight. “Prefer the story to end?”

It took everything Agron had not to push Nasir aside and strangle the life out of the Dominus.

 

Agron found Nasir backstage, untying his corset. He stepped on an out of place plank and it creaked beneath him. Nasir looked up.

“I’m sorry. I had to do it,” he said.

Agron ignored him and walked close to him. “Don’t sleep with him.” He whispered urgently.

Nasir glanced around them before answering. “He could destroy us all.”

“Then let him.” Agron answered fiercely.

Nasir touched his cheek. “You know I can’t.” He pushed close to Agron. “This is for us.”

“It’s not for us!” Agron just barely kept himself from yelling it.

Nasir didn’t draw away and while the muscles in his face tightened, the look of sadness in his eyes only increased. “You promised me it didn’t matter.”

“Nasir--”

“Did you mean it?”

Agron paused. “I did then. But now--”

“I know.” Nasir glanced away from Agron. “He’s waiting.” He started to move away but Agron grabbed his arm.

“No.”

Nasir kissed his cheek. “I will be forever by your side,” he said. “Come what may.”

Agron took a deep breath. “Forever by your side… Come what may.” And he let Nasir slip away from him.

 

Agron wanted to be in his apartment, tearing the place up, ruining what few possessions he had, but Batiatus wanted him under close watch. So he waited with the dancers and his friends.

Gannicus sat down beside him. “Never fall in love with someone who sells themselves,” he said. He was the only one who didn’t seem disturbed by this turn of events, which might have had something to do with how much absinthe he’d consumed once the disastrous rehearsal had finished.

In fact, he took a drink from his absinthe bottle right then. “It always ends bad.”

“What would you know about love?” Crixus snapped at him and Agron caught him glance at one of the dancers, Naevia.

Agron gave the implications of that glance only a passing thought before thinking of what Nasir was doing right now.

Gannicus shrugged and took another drink.

“Oh.” One of the prostitutes, the same one that had spoken with the Dominus, approached Agron and set herself in his lap. “Don’t worry, Shakespeare. You’ll get your ending. Once the Dominus gets his… end… in.”

“Fuck yourself, you cunt!” Agron threw her off him.

Gannicus grabbed him but Agron shoved him aside and, Batiatus’s orders or not, his feet carried him quickly from The Ludus. No one stopped him.

No one noticed that he wasn’t the only one to slip away either.

 

Nasir wore the same outfit he had the night he was to seduce the Dominus. A black corset, with see through fabric covering his body.

“My dear Dominus,” he said, pushing all revulsion to the side and becoming the courtesan that he was. “I hope I have not kept you waiting.”

“An unbearably long time,” the Dominus said, taking Nasir’s arm and pulling him toward the table, where a feast lay waiting for them. Nothing more than a formality. They both knew the Dominus’s true intent.

“That is something we will both correct presently.” The Dominus continued. “But first I believe I am owed an explanation.” His voice was far from forgiving.

“Of course.” Nasir did not show how unsettled he was. He knew how dangerous this was. One misstep and the Dominus could have his bodyguard Ashur deal with him. “I am aware of the contract however, the boy was very persistent. I have no affection for him. Simply, we need him. You are aware of his talent, whatever else his faults may be. But after tomorrow night…”

“We have no more use for him.” The Dominus finished.

“And with our success ensured he may go--” Nasir shrugged. “Wherever it is he cares for. Away from us.” But if that were to happen he would take Nasir’s heart with him.

The Dominus took the bait and Nasir steered the conversation away from Agron and toward the promise of what tomorrow night would hold-- as well as this one. He never once shuddered nor flinched when the Dominus caressed his arm or circled him and let his hand pass over his waist. But even seated at the table, with several feet between him and the Dominus, his skin still crawled.

Between courses, the Dominus stood and came to Nasir.

“When this production succeeds, you will no longer be a can-can dancer but an actor.” He went around to the back of Nasir’s chair and let his hand rest on Nasir’s shoulder. “I will make you a star.” He gestured behind them to the man waiting on them and he brought forward a necklace of diamonds. “Accept this as a gift…” The Dominus took the necklace and the servant left the room. “From this emperor to his courtesan.”

The Dominus placed the necklace around Nasir. It covered the length of his throat and dipped all the way down almost to his sternum.

“Oh…” Nasir let his fingers trail over the sparkling jewels. It was everything he’d wanted…

Before he’d met Agron.

“And the ending?” He asked and his breath caught in his throat.

“Let Batiatus keep his fairy tale ending.”

The Dominus drew him to the balcony. As Nasir stared out over it, to the streets below, the streets he had come from, the Dominus grazed the back of his neck with his lips.

And then he saw Agron walking below.

Before Agron, he’d thought of sex only as a means to an end, a way to keep himself alive. But Agron loved him. He didn’t want this.

Neither did Nasir.

“No.” He whispered and then shrugged away from the Dominus’s lips.

“No?”

Nasir moved away but the Dominus lingered.

“I see. It’s our very own penniless sitar player.”

It was only once he was inside that Nasir turned around. “Dominus--” He started, not entirely sure what lie he would spin this time.

“Silence!” The Dominus yelled. He grabbed Nasir’s arms and hurled him to the ground. “You made me believe that you loved me!”

Nasir shook his head. The Dominus had bought him. What did he expect Nasir to do?

The Dominus seized Nasir’s hair, jerking it back while his other hand went to the diamond necklace. With one rough pull, he ripped it away, taking Nasir’s hope with it.

The necklace hit the ground and broke apart, sending diamonds scattering everywhere as Nasir tried to free himself from the Dominus’s grip. But all he could do was cry out as the Dominus pulled him by the hair up onto his feet.

If he fought back he could be killed. He couldn’t escape.

The Dominus stripped him of his corset, grabbed his arms, and pushed him towards the bed.

“Don’t--”

The Dominus mouthed his shoulder before shoving him back onto the mattress.

Nasir closed his eyes.

And then he heard a shattering sound and something heavy crumpling to the floor.

When he looked, he found Naevia standing there, looking wide eyed and afraid but still determined. And at her feet, surrounded by the remnants of a heavy platter, was the Dominus.


	6. Chapter 6

Agron had completely trashed his already shitty apartment. The only things that weren’t broken were the bed and his typewriter. Everything else? Well, there were bits of wood, plaster, and glass all over the floor. The storm had passed over him, leaving him collapsed at the foot of the bed. He ran his hand through his hair, then got up to sweep up the mess.

The door opened before he could.

Nasir had a coat draped around his shoulders and very little else on him by the look of it but that wasn’t what captured Agron’s attention. Rather, he was focused on the way Nasir barely held himself together.

“Nasir.” Agron heard shards of glass crunch under his shoes as he stepped towards his lover.

Nasir shouldn’t be here. He should be at the tower with the Dominus but instead...

As soon as Agron got within reach, Nasir had his arms around him and pressed close to him. He took in deep breaths as Agron held him. It was then that Agron saw Naevia, lingering just outside the doorway, 

“What--”

“I couldn’t.” Nasir finally got out. He drew back, not out of Agron’s arms but enough to look at him. “I couldn’t sleep with him. I saw you. I saw you and I realized--” Neither Nasir’s voice nor body was steady.

Agron unwound one arm from Nasir so he could press it to his cheek. But he didn’t interrupt.

“And when the Dominus saw, when I said no, he--”

Agron pieced together Nasir’s appearance, the missing corset, the disheveled hair and above all the lack of composure that Nasir so rarely went without.

“What did he do to you?” Agron kept his anger in check but only for Nasir’s sake.

“He tried to force himself on me but-- Naevia. She struck his head and brought me here.”

Agron pulled Nasir back against him. He looked at Naevia. “Thank you,” he said, knowing the two words, in fact any words at all, would be unable to fully express his gratitude.

Naevia nodded.

“What are we going to do?” Nasir asked, still trembling. “He knows. He saw us and I told him--”

And Agron knew, he knew what they should have done the moment they’d fallen in love. “We’ll leave.”

Nasir stilled. “We can’t-- the show--”

“I don’t care.” Agron brought his hand to the back of Nasir’s head. “It doesn’t matter as long as we have each other.”

Nasir moved back to look at him. Agron could see the indecision in his eyes. The loyalty to Batiatus and The Ludus, the reluctance to return to the place he had escaped, but what they had was important… enough to overcome fear.

“As long as we have each other.” Nasir echoed, having made his choice.

Agron brought their lips together in a brief kiss. “Go and pack. Meet me back here as soon as you can and we’ll leave tonight. Naevia.” He glanced over Nasir at the woman. “You should leave with Crixus. Can you take Nasir back to his room?”

Naevia nodded. “I can.”

“Thank you.” Agron gave Nasir one final kiss. “Go,” he said and withdrew his arms from him. “I’ll be waiting.”

“I’ll be back shortly.” Nasir promised.

 

Naevia parted with Nasir just as he reached his room. He’d thanked her for everything and wished her well. It pained him to leave, just as it hurt not to say goodbye to Chadara. He hoped she would understand.

As soon as he was inside he made for the jewels he’d been given. Batiatus would be furious that he would take them but Batiatus hadn’t been given them. He hadn’t fucked people to get them.

“Going somewhere?”

Nasir started at the sound of Batiatus’s voice. He had been so focused on the task at hand that he hadn’t noticed him lurking the shadows. He whirled about and found both him and Chadara in the room with him.

“And taking things that don’t belong to you.”

“You were paid for whoring me out. These are my earnings,” Nasir said as he felt his own confidence grow. This was just as well. Batiatus had used him for years. It was time he knew how Nasir felt.

“Earnings you would not have if it weren’t for me.” Batiatus stepped toward him. “And this is how you fucking repay me?”

“Repay?” Nasir laughed and the sound had a bitter taste on his tongue. “You taught me that the only way to survive was by sleeping with men who only cared for my body. That’s no way to live, Batiatus and I refuse to be your whore anymore! Agron loves me and I--”

“Agron! Agron will be dead within a day if you leave with him, and you brought back to the life you made a fucking foolish attempt to leave.”

Dead within a day… Nasir didn’t betray his hesitation. “I’m through with your lies, Batiatus.”

“This is no fucking lie.” Batiatus paced the room. “The Dominus rages at the man who’s stolen his beloved courtesan away. He would see him dead and you obediently by his side.”

“He’s not the first man who would see another dead for me.” Nasir replied. He turned back to start packing again.

“He’s the first who has the power to do it. If you want to see your lover dead, by all means, leave. And when the Dominus brings you back and you’re forced to sleep with the man who killed your precious Agron, remember I warned you.”

Nasir froze. Fuck packing. He was through with this. He didn’t need his corsets or anything more than the jewels in his hand. He faced Batiatus.

“He’ll never find us. Goodbye, Batiatus.” He made for the door.

“You’re dying!” Batiatus yelled.

Nasir had to grab the door to steady himself. “One last lie?” He asked.

“No. The doctor told us the night you passed out waiting for the Dominus. Consumption.”

Nasir glanced back. His eyes searched for Chadara and he found her, looking at the floor, confirming his fears.

He was dying.

“So unless you want your lover to watch you die an agonizing death, you will fucking stay here and spare him both the pain and his life.”

Batiatus was right. Even if they escaped, there would be no happiness for them. Agron would watch as Nasir withered and gasped for breath until the very end when he…

“Send him away.” Batiatus continued. “Why give him that memory for the rest of his life?”

Nasir recalled Spartacus and how he had closed himself off at the mention of his dead wife. But there was no way that Agron would leave him, especially if he knew.

“He’ll fight for me,” Nasir said. “He always will.”

Batiatus considered that for a moment, then nodded. “Unless you make him believe you don’t love him.”

Nasir felt himself go cold, blood and heart. “No.” His voice was numb.

“What choice do you have?”

Nasir shook his head. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to him.

“Save his life, hurt him to spare him a greater pain. You’re a brilliant actor, Nasir, whatever else you may be.”

Nasir leaned against the door. Every touch they’d shared. Every hope of more…

“You’re a courtesan.” Batiatus reminded him. “You can’t afford to love.”

All of it was gone. “I can’t.” He whispered. But he always would. Even if Agron didn’t.

 

It took time for Nasir to prepare himself and change, not into clothes to travel and disguise himself in but the normal ones he wore to impress. And then it took even longer for him to ready himself for what he had to do.

Nasir didn’t care to go around the stage. He went through it, pulling back the curtains, and as soon as he stepped forward he learned they were testing the lights. He was nearly blinded as he was taken unawares, illuminated and shining-- but only on the outside.

After a breath, he walked down the stage and caught Batiatus’s steely eyes on him. Nasir nodded. Batiatus let him pass. The rest of the walk to Agron’s apartment was something out of a nightmare, with each step weighing him down more than the last and filling him with dread and regret.

When he opened the door he saw that Agron had his few clothes ready. He had nothing else to take but his typewriter.

Agron took him in and his look turned into one of confusion.

“Where are your bags?”

_I’m dying,_ Nasir wanted to tell him. _I want to spend the rest of my life with you._ But he raised his head instead. “I can’t go with you. I’m staying.”

Agron closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. “What?” The reality of the situation hadn’t hit him yet. Shock still held him.

“After I left, the Dominus came to me and offered me everything I’ve dreamed of: power, position, comfort, money-- everything. His one condition is that I must never see you.” Nasir’s voice seemed to come from someone else, but then he was someone else. Nasir the courtesan, who felt no love for anyone let alone a penniless writer who couldn’t afford him.

“What are you talking about-- everything we’ve said and been through-- that’s all for fucking nothing?” Even now Agron wasn’t angry. He wasn’t heartbroken. He really couldn’t understand.

“You’re not like me, you can leave. You have a home to return to--”

“It can be your home too!”

Nasir turned from Agron. Why did he have to say that? Why did he have to promise him that when Nasir could never let him give him that home?

“It can never be.”

“This isn’t right. Something’s going on.” Agron grabbed his arm before Nasir could leave, not hard but enough that he couldn’t move. “Don’t lie to me! Tell me the truth!”

Nasir couldn’t breathe. His chest was held in a vise and he couldn’t get enough air in.

“Nasir--” Agron started to pull him towards him.

Nasir placed his hand on Agron’s chest to stop him and even that small touch burned. “The truth.” He gasped and finally the air got through to his lungs. “The truth is that I am the Roman courtesan-- and I choose the emperor.” He pried Agron’s fingers from his arm and, before his sorrow could swallow him, left.

But not before he heard Agron’s cry.

“Nasir!”

 

Agron tried to go to Nasir. He tried to speak to him again but Batiatus must have ordered him not to be admitted for the men at The Ludus’s entrance dragged him away, beat him, and left him in the mud. He was barely aware of Spartacus, Crixus, and Gannicus carrying him back to his room and changing him. When he came back to himself, there was just Spartacus beside him.

They didn’t speak for some time.

“Agron,” Spartacus said. “Things aren’t always as they seem.”

“They fucking are.” Agron whispered hoarsely.

“I know love. I felt it once, as deeply as you feel it. I still do. Nasir wouldn’t leave you unless he had to. He still loves you.”

“Go away.”

“No, you have to listen--”

In spite of his bruises, Agron shoved Spartacus off the bed they were resting on. “Go away!” He yelled.

Spartacus glared at him but then his gaze softened. He grabbed his coat and left.

Agron sat with his back to the headboard for some time, recalling when he’d pressed Nasir against it before pulling him onto his lap.

He still loves you.

Agron stretched first, testing each muscle before deeming himself more or less fit to get up. He took out the one suit he had, grabbed his typewriter, and left.

Once he sold his only means of providing for himself, he purchased a ticket for Spectacular, Spectacular, and none of the idiots working there recognized him. Instead of taking his seat however, he made use of his knowledge of The Ludus and slipped backstage. And then he looked for Nasir.

 

Nasir was perfect in the opening number. He recalled every line, performed every move flawlessly. It didn’t make it less painful. This was their story, thinly disguised, and the start of it was exactly how it had ended.

“Diamonds are a boy’s best friend…” Nasir finished the song. His eyes landed on the Dominus, who met his gaze, probably mistaking Nasir’s dead eyed stare for some twisted look of love.

Batiatus draped his arm over Nasir. “He is mine.”

“He is mine.” The Dominus mouthed.

Nasir severed any feelings he had in that moment.

Backstage, there was always someone preparing him for the next number. Each time it took more effort and Nasir quickly found himself more and more out of breath. Singing, dancing, pretending he wasn’t breaking inside. He wanted to collapse in his room and rest-- or die. It didn’t feel like he was that far off from it.

“One more number.” Chadara assured him as she tightened his last outfit, the white corset that was to be for the Roman courtesan’s wedding. “Can you make it to the stage?”

“I’m fine.” Though Nasir found himself dreading what would come after the musical. A night with the Dominus…

Nasir stumbled on his way to the stage. He heard Batiatus reciting his lines, making his announcement of the marriage to be. He might as well have been announcing Nasir’s permanent servitude to the Dominus.

It was the first time he was alone. At least, it was supposed to be. Nasir froze when he saw, across from him, Agron dressed in the sitar player’s clothes.

He didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know why Agron was here. He didn’t know that Crixus had lent him his clothes, which didn’t entirely fit him, so he had more of a chance of blending in. All Nasir knew was that Agron _could not_ be here.

“I’ve come to pay my bill,” Agron said as he approached and it was only then that Nasir saw the money in his hand.

No, no he wasn’t a whore. He had never been one for Agron.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Nasir said. He brushed past him. “Leave.”

“I’m not leaving.” Agron came after him. “Not until I’ve paid you. You did your job too well.”

It wasn’t a job. “You can’t afford it. Just go.” Nasir kept walking.

He was in the center of backstage, his position for when the curtains were pulled back to reveal him, when he saw the Dominus’s bodyguard, Ashur and the gun in his hands. He turned to Agron and grabbed his arms. But he was too weak to push him back.

“Go.”

“Was none of it real?” Agron asked.

“Go!” Nasir hissed and struggled against him more, trying to push him back with all the strength he had but Agron wouldn’t move.

“Did you never love me?”

“Please!”

Batiatus was crying ‘open the doors’ and that was his cue but the curtains didn’t part yet.

“DID YOU NEVER LOVE ME?” Agron shouted but it wasn’t rage that filled his eyes as his voice broke.

And then the curtains drew back.

There were Nasir and Agron, revealed in the light. Nasir’s face was stained with tears, his hands were still on Agron’s arms. In unison, they both looked from each other, past Batiatus’s shocked face, to the audience.

Batiatus laughed. “I am not fooled! Though he has shaved off his beard and adopts a disguise, mine eyes do not lie! For it is he, the same penniless sitar player, driven mad by jealousy!”

The audience “ah”ed as they fell for Batiatus’s improvisation.

Nasir looked at Agron. Agron returned the look-- and then pushed him away.

Breathless, Nasir lost his balance fell to the floor, just barely stretching his arms out in time to catch himself from striking it face first.

“This man is yours now.” Agron told Batiatus.

Nasir raised his eyes in time to see the money his former lover threw at him.

“I’ve paid my whore.” Agron finished.

That word had never stung more than it did now, hearing it from someone who’d told him he loved him, the only one who had meant it.

Nasir stared into Agron’s eyes and for the first time he saw anger mingled with hurt.

“I owe you nothing.” Agron’s voice cut him. “And you are nothing to me.”

Nasir choked back a sob.

“Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love.” Agron’s face crumpled but he turned and walked off the stage.

Nasir lay surrounded by the money Agron had paid him with, for services he’d never rendered. For a lie he’d never told.

Batiatus’s false, cheery laugh failed to bring him back to the musical. “This sitar player doesn’t love you. See, he flees the kingdom!” Batiatus bent over Nasir and grabbed his arm to pull him up. “It’s for the best, Nasir.” He whispered.

Nasir shook his head, his gaze was fixed on Agron’s retreating form.

“It is.” Batiatus raised his voice. “And now it is time to say our wedding vows.”

As Batiatus started singing the wedding song, his voice was drowned out by Spartacus’s.

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return!”

Agron had just reached the last row of the audience. Nasir would rather die than let him go.

He took a deep breath and sang through the pain in his chest. “Come what may.”

Agron didn’t turn back at first but when he did, even through the distance between them, their eyes locked. “Come what may.”

Nasir smiled.

Agron started toward him. “I will be forever by your side until my dying day.”

It was the final song as it was meant to be, before the musical was rewritten, and they fell into it perfectly. Despite the tears and the hurt, they were both smiling as they walked to each other and once Nasir was in reach, Agron hoisted him up into his arms. Nasir wrapped his legs around Agron’s waist as he was carried back onto the stage.

The other dancers followed, falling into the song and dance for the original performance. Batiatus, powerless to stop them without breaking character, stepped back.

Spartacus however, had pieced together what was happening and managed to get near them both.

“Agron, Ashur is trying to kill you.”

Agron’s eyes darted from Spartacus to Nasir as comprehension dawned.

“I thought it was the only way.” Nasir whispered.

Agron guided them to the middle of the dancers. “Wait here.” He told Nasir as he set him back on the ground.

“Agron, wait--” But Nasir didn’t have the strength to follow as Agron moved away.

After a few moments, the crowd parted long enough for Nasir to get a glimpse of Agron grabbing the gun from Ashur’s hands and punching him until he collapsed. He then unloaded the gun, put it in his pocket, and went back to Nasir.

“Problem solved,” he said and brought them both back to the front of the stage.

Only it wasn’t as solved as they thought. As soon as they came to the front, the Dominus was there waiting, with a gun pointed at Agron’s chest.

“My way.” His lips curled in disgust and his face was a mask of rage.

Before Agron or the Dominus could do anything, Nasir’s fist shot out and he struck the Dominus’s face hard enough to send him reeling-- along with the gun in his hand. Chadara, waiting in the audience, scooped up the gun and quickly disappeared from sight.

Agron laughed and together they sang the last line of the song.

“I will be forever by your side until my dying day!”

Nasir had forgotten how soon that would be.

The curtains closed around them and Agron pulled him into a gentle but insistent kiss. Nasir grinned as soon as Agron stepped back. Agron slipped his hand through Nasir’s.

“Never leave me again.”

Nasir shook his head as he panted. But when he tried to say “never” he couldn’t get the word out. His gasps grew louder and his hand went up to his chest.

 

Agron had turned back to the front of the stage, ready for the curtain call, when he felt Nasir pull on his hand. A second later he realized it wasn’t a pull but Nasir falling and he barely caught him before he hit the ground.

“Nasir-- what is it?”

Nasir shook his head. He was still gasping for breath. “Agron.”

Agron cradled his head in his hands. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m--” Nasir closed his eyes and finally got a deep enough breath that he could speak properly. “I’m dying.”

“No.” Agron insisted. He brushed Nasir’s hair back. “No, you’re not.”

“I am. The doctor said--”

“No, you’re not.” Agron felt the panic rise inside him, clear in his own voice. “Let’s get this off first.” His hands went to Nasir’s back to unlace the corset.

Once it came off Nasir took in a deep sucking breath and started coughing but he still breathed.

“Better?”

Nasir clutched his chest. “Ah-- yes.”

“See, I told you.” Agron grinned. “Not dying.”

Nasir didn’t seem convinced. “But the doctor--” He coughed one last time. “He said I have consumption.”

Consumption? Fucking seriously?

“Have you ever coughed up blood?” Agron asked.

“Well…” Nasir paused. “Not that I recall.”

Did none of them stop to take your fucking corset off?”

There was a long time when Nasir didn’t respond and then he laughed. “I need a better doctor.”

“Fucking told you.” Agron couldn’t stop smiling. “Come on, one last curtain call and then we’re fucking leaving.”

“Good. I never want to see this place again.” Nasir beamed. “Take me to your home?”

“I will.” Agron kissed him as he helped him up.

 

Agron waited as Nasir read over his shoulder.

“What do you think?” He asked when Nasir settled back.

He frowned. “In the beginning, didn’t you say I die?”

“Yeah, that’s supposed to keep the readers hooked. You know, give them some drama and then a twist ending.”

Nasir shook his head. “Really, Agron.”

“What?” Agron turned around and got his arms around Nasir. “You thought I could kill you?”

“Hm, maybe you shouldn’t lie to your readers.” Nasir smiled before kissing him. “You could at least apologize to them.”

“I should.”

Agron turned back to the typewriter and quickly added to the story.

_Nasir never died. Agron took him back to Germany and they spent all their free time fucking. Hope you enjoyed the story about truth, beauty, freedom, and love-- a love that will last forever._

“Perfect.” Nasir looped his arms around Agron’s waist. “About all that free time fucking…”

Agron grinned as Nasir pulled him back to the bedroom.

The end.


End file.
